


You Don't Have To Go

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Agender Character, First Meetings, It's Grantaire, One Night Stands, Other, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7557874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hi,” Grantaire says, dumbly. “What’s happening?”<br/>The person leans in and says loudly, over the music, “Dance with me!”<br/>Their hands are on their waist, and Grantaire has no idea what’s going on. “I think you’re supposed to ask before you drag me off my chair!” Grantaire tries to tell them. </p><p>They meet in a nightclub, and then go home to Grantaire's and have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Have To Go

**Author's Note:**

> Yo so this is my first writing of smut. Hopefully it doesn't suck to much. I'm ace so I don't really know what's hot and one night stands kinda make me go ~~~~~ in mood form but i got this vetted by a non-ace friend and she seemed to like it so???? i guess???  
> Feedback is v appreciated bc i'm working on another fic that features much more sex so. Yes.  
> Enjoy!  
> If you're under 16 don't read this, please.
> 
> fic title from all time low's "dont you go" which is a great song and very otp one night stand shit so yeah 
> 
> :)

Their hand closes around their first drink of the night, lifting it up to their mouth to drain the dregs, when someone grabs their arm and drags them off their chair and away from the bar. They drop the glass, and it falls on its side on the bar, rolling slightly as the last drops of their drink spill out.

Stumbling in their attempt to keep up with the person gripping their arm, Grantaire tries to keep his feet moving, a half-formed, “What?” slipping from their mouth.

They’re out on the dancefloor before they know what’s happening.

The person spins to face him and –

Holy shit. _Holy shit._ Okay, then.

“Hi,” Grantaire says, dumbly. “What’s happening?”

The person leans in and says loudly, over the music, “Dance with me!”

Their hands are on their waist, and Grantaire has no idea what’s going on. “I think you’re supposed to ask _before_ you drag me off my chair!” Grantaire tries to tell them.

They don’t even have the decency to look contrite when they say, “I know.”

Grantaire frowns.

The stranger grins, pulling them in closer and starting to dance in time with the music. “I saw my ex,” they explain. “You’ll piss him right off.”

Grantaire blanches a little, but shrugs it off. “Okay. I can do that.”

“I’m Enjolras, by the way!” the stranger yells. “He/him pronouns, please.” He says it so casually, without any preamble, and Grantaire freezes.

No one has _ever_ introduced themselves to them with their pronouns before.

They blink in surprise. “Grantaire,” they manage to say, and then, “They/them, please.”

Enjolras beams and he’s _fucking gorgeous_. Grantaire manages a smile in return, and their hands wander to Enjolras’ waist as they dance, close together. It’s pretty dark in the club – obviously; when was the last time you went to a well-lit club? – but Grantaire can still see Enjolras in a decent amount of clarity. The blond hair and the shining eyes are captivating, really.

“So, why do you want to piss off your ex so much?” Grantaire asks, for lack of anything else to say, but when they feel that silence is getting too much to bear. It’s talk or kiss him, and talking seems the safer option, really.  

Enjolras throws his head back as he laughs, giving Grantaire a pretty good view of his throat, where they would quite like to press kisses. “Let’s just say we had a difference of opinions,” he says, at last.

“Oh?” Grantaire asks, sounding curious.

“Yes,” Enjolras says, quite dryly. “I thought that monogamy meant only sleeping with one person.”

Grantaire tries to stop themself from grinning, but it’s harder than expected and they bite their lip while looking up at Enjolras. “ _Damn_ ,” they say, giving into the grin. “He cheated on _you_?”

Enjolras frowns a little then. “Yes?”

“Man, I’m sorry, that’s really crap,” Grantaire says, really trying their best not to laugh, “but was he blind, or something?”

Enjolras only looks confused, and Grantaire continues to say, “I mean, have you seen yourself? What? Are you a really crap lay? Secret _My Little Pony_ watcher? No, no, wait. Your mother takes the awful-mother-in-law stereotype to the extreme.”

Enjolras raises an eyebrow at them, seemingly amused now. He wraps one arm around Grantaire’s waist, pulling them in closer as they dance, so that their bodies are pressed together. He hums, thinking, and then says, “I’d say it was probably the workaholic tendencies that turned him off. But the mother’s not a bad guess.”

Grantaire grins, their faces a lot closer now. “Is he close by?”

“He’s watching.”

Grantaire reaches up to put their arms around Enjolras’ neck, hanging off him a little as they grind their hips forwards. Enjolras gives them an approving grin. “So shut up and _dance_ , then,” Grantaire says, pressing forwards.

Enjolras laughs and spins them round a little, bodies of the other people in the club pressing into them occasionally, the beat of the music so loud it thrums through Grantaire’s veins.

Grantaire lets themself go, dancing with Enjolras like it’s their last dance. They revel in the feel of Enjolras’ body against them, in the rhythm of the music and the way it compels them to dance, in the thrill of being chosen specifically to piss off this _gorgeous_ guy’s ex.

Their eyes meet Enjolras’ and can’t look away, fixed on the ice blue, knowing that Enjolras is looking right back and not at anyone else. Grantaire can’t help the smile that is on their face.

So logically they know that Enjolras just grabbed the first passably cute person he saw in a fast attempt to aggravate a guy who was a dick to him, but in this moment, Enjolras is looking at them and Grantaire feels that _rush_ that they’ve not felt in a long time.

Enjolras’ lips come close to Grantaire’s ear, and he whispers, “You’re holding back on me.” Grantaire can hear the smile in Enjolras voice and they feel their entire body thrum in response to the hot breath against their skin.

They’re incredibly close, and if the music weren’t so loud, Grantaire’s sure they wouldn’t be able to register anything but Enjolras.

Their faces are close, so close that their noses brush against each other’s as they stare into each other’s eyes. Enjolras’ eyes are slightly heavy-lidded and dark, his mouth slightly parted as he breathes just a little too heavily. Grantaire’s never seen anything so attractive in their life.

They wonder what it would be like to have Enjolras beneath them, writhing and panting their name. Or perhaps it would be better to be beneath this man, have him over them, pinning them down and giving them nowhere to look but at him.

Either way, they want to watch Enjolras come apart with their touch.

Enjolras’ hands slide under Grantaire’s shirt, touching bare skin. Grantaire bites off a curse and presses forwards, craving his touch.

If Grantaire were to move their head forwards just a centimetre, their lips could meet. Before they get the chance to do anything, or say anything, Enjolras asks, “Can I kiss you?”

They nod, barely an incline of the head, and then Enjolras’ lips are on them.

Grantaire feels hot all over and all they want is _more, more, more._ They could use up every bit of Enjolras and still want more.

Somehow, they find themself pulling Enjolras away from the dancefloor, not taking their mouth away from his. Enjolras follows. They back up all the way until their back is pressed against a wall, and Enjolras is pressed against them, panting heavily into their mouth and kissing like there’s no tomorrow. Enjolras doesn’t taste at all like alcohol, though there’s a lingering of the taste on Grantaire, and it prompts Grantaire to pull away.

“What-” Grantaire pants, and then stops themself to kiss Enjolras again. “What’s your opinion-” they try again, and then finally they get out, “What’s your opinion on going back to my place to have sex?” just before they kiss Enjolras again.

Enjolras pulls back and grins at them in the darkness of the club. “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” he says, before reclaiming Grantaire’s mouth.

They’re a jumble of limbs and wet, hot kisses on the way out the door, but they do manage to get there. It seems to Grantaire that Enjolras has forgotten all about his ex, and that delights Grantaire like nothing before.

They hail a cab, all but falling into the back seats. The cabbie does not look at all impressed and they both part, keeping their hands to themselves – only God knows how.

Grantaire keeps glancing at Enjolras the entire ride, and every time their eyes catch, they both start giggling. It’s torture not being able to touch Enjolras, but Grantaire has too much empathy for the cab driver, so they force themself keep their hands to themself.

When they finally get there, Grantaire pays the taxi-driver without giving Enjolras a chance to pay – he’s doing enough – and then they grab Enjolras and drag him out the cab and up the stairs to their flat.

Enjolras can’t seem to keep his hands off them, and as Grantaire tries to unlock their door, Enjolras’ arms wrap around their middle from behind, mouthing up the back of their neck.

Grantaire shivers, and as soon as they are through the door, they whirl around and kiss Enjolras fiercely, closing the door with one free hand. They slam Enjolras’ body against the wooden door, pressing their hips together as his hands wind into Enjolras’ pretty blond locks, viciously.

The sounds that Enjolras makes – the little, breathy moans – send Grantaire over the edge, kissing with fierce passion.

Enjolras’ hands fist into Grantaire’s shirt, tugging at it, desperate to get it _gone_ , and Grantaire is more than happy to comply – pulling away for a moment to drag the shirt up and over their head. Then they turn their attention to Enjolras’ shirt, fingers scrabbling at the buttons.

They undo them deftly, one by one, revealing the smooth skin of Enjolras’ chest. They push the fabric off both Enjolras’ shoulders, letting it drop to the floor by their feet. “Pants,” Grantaire moans. “Get them off.”

“Bedroom first,” Enjolras mumbles back, pushing against Grantaire to get them away from the door. Grantaire moans but does then move their feet, leading them in the direction of the bedroom. Enjolras wraps himself around Grantaire’s shoulders, mouthing desperately at Grantaire’s neck as they go, and Grantaire all but collapses onto their bed, just managing to turn and make it so Enjolras lands between their legs.

Enjolras is hard, and Grantaire can feel him through their jeans. Their hands reach down, fumbling at the button and zipper, pushing Enjolras’ jeans off over his ass. “Fuck,” Grantaire curses, as Enjolras’ hands spread over Grantaire’s bare chest. Grantaire rocks up against the beautiful man on top of them.

They mouth at Enjolras neck as Enjolras rocks down against them before Enjolras rolls off them, getting up to quickly pull off his jeans and throw them onto the floor before crawling back onto the bed and straddling Grantaire.

“Fuck,” Grantaire curses as Enjolras makes quick work of undoing their jeans.

“I want you,” Enjolras tells him. “I want you so badly.”

His words make Grantaire’s pupils grow with arousal, and it sends a heady feeling rushing through Enjolras. Grantaire leans down and begins pressing kisses along his jawline, down his neck, across his collar bone. “You’re beautiful,” they murmur against Enjolras’ skin. It makes Enjolras shiver and preen and it feels wonderful against Grantaire as the blond man presses down against them.

“Grantaire,” he whispers. A kiss is pressed against his lips before the word is fully out of his mouth. Grantaire’s mouth fits to the shape that their name made as they grip Enjolras’ arms and roll them over so Grantaire’s on top, pressing Enjolras down into the mattress. Enjolras’ hands lift to rest on Grantaire’s back. They explore the smooth skin there, finding the places it dips, feeling it twist and turn as Grantaire presses down against him, deepening the kiss.

Grantaire kneels over Enjolras, pulling away from the kiss. They sit back and look down at Enjolras. Their fingers brush against Enjolras’ sides, and their eyes silently ask for permission. Enjolras nods, not taking his eyes from Grantaire’s face. Slowly, Grantaire’s fingers spread over Enjolras’ chest, and they lean down to mouth at the warm skin, mouth finding Enjolras’ nipple and biting at it gently.

There’s approval in Grantaire’s eyes when they pull back to look at Enjolras for a second, and that’s quickly followed by them bending down to mouth at Enjolras’ hot skin again, causing Enjolras to twist and arch up into their touch. Enjolras’ eyelids flutter shut. He mumbles Grantaire’s name again, feeling himself grow hotter and harder beneath Grantaire.

Grantaire continues to press open mouthed kisses down Enjolras’ abdomen, and soon they reach the waistband of Enjolras’ boxers. “Can I?” they ask.

Enjolras’ eyes flicker down to them. “Only if you take yours off, too,” Enjolras says.

That makes Grantaire grin against Enjolras’ skin. Enjolras can feel their teeth graze against him, and for some reason that alone almost sends him over the edge.

Grantaire quickly complies, shimmying their own jeans off, and then they turn their attention back to Enjolras. They’re quite a sight, kneeling there in only their boxers, fixated solely on Enjolras. “Fuck,” Enjolras says. Grantaire smiles at him and their fingers slip beneath the waistband. They tug them down, gently, and Enjolras lifts his hips to help. It makes Grantaire groan, sounding a little helpless.

Enjolras giggles a little, but that quickly stops when Grantaire mouths at Enjolras’ hard bare cock. “God, Grantaire,” he moans, weakly as Grantaire’s fingers trace over Enjolras’ warm skin and their hot breath brushes over Enjolras’ leaking cock.

Enjolras’ hands fist into the fabric sheets. “Grantai-” he tries to say, as Grantaire presses kisses to the insides of his thighs, nibbling a little on the soft, squishy fat there. “Oh God- Grantaire-” he tries again.

“Everything all right?” Grantaire asks, looking up at him, feeling themself start to grin.

“Don’t stop,” Enjolras pants. “Oh God, Grantaire- Gran _taire_ ,” he gasps out as Grantaire licks up the underside of his cock.

“Call me R,” Grantaire says, before pressing a kiss to the sensitive juncture below his hip, next to his crotch. They grin briefly at Enjolras and then they go back to their ministrations of Enjolras’ upper legs.

Grantaire’s kisses spread across till they reach the base of Enjolras’ cock, nose buried in the coarse curly hair, and Enjolras slips one hand into Grantaire’s hair. He gives a tentative tug, fisting his hand, and Grantaire groans. The feeling of Grantaire moaning against his skin is incredible.

Enjolras’ grip gets tighter in Grantaire’s hair. “Fuck, _R_ ,” Enjolras curses as Grantaire takes him into their mouth, sucking ever so slightly, adding just a little pressure.

Grantaire hums, sending vibrations down the length of Enjolras’ cock, and Enjolras accidentally thrusts up into Grantaire’s mouth. Grantaire makes a slight noise of protestation, and their hands come up to press down on Enjolras’ hips, keeping him steady.

“Sorry,” Enjolras mumbles, and Grantaire only bobs their head more, sucking on Enjolras’ length even more enthusiastically. Enjolras moans loudly, uncontrollably. “Grantaire, Grantaire, fuck, R, oh God, Grantaire,” Enjolras chokes out, tugging at Grantaire’s hair almost ruthlessly. “St- Stop, R, stop.”

Grantaire pulls off instantly, looking concerned, and Enjolras is quick to pull them up into a kiss, hand still in their hair. “I just don’t want to come like this,” Enjolras explains against Grantaire’s lips. “I want to come inside you,” he adds. Grantaire’s eyes widen, and Enjolras quickly asks, “Is that okay? I- Obviously you don’t have to-”

Grantaire moans. “‘Is that okay?’ he asks. Of course, it’s okay. Fuck, Enjolras. I want you in me so badly, fuck.” They kiss Enjolras deeper, tongue pushing into Enjolras’ mouth, desperately.

“Do you have lube and condoms?” Enjolras asks, pulling back from Grantaire’s kiss.

Grantaire nods, and it’s with clear reluctance that they pull away from Enjolras and yanks open a drawer in their bedside table. They return with a handful of condoms grabbed haphazardly in their hand and a tube of half-empty lube.

They lean in and capture Enjolras’ lower lip between their teeth, sucking gently. Enjolras chuckles. His hands find Grantaire’s shoulders, using them to flip the pair of them, so that Enjolras is on top of them again. He sits back on his haunches and looks down at Grantaire, who’s looking at him with wonder and lust. Enjolras fingers the band of Grantaire’s boxers, and Grantaire nods urgently.

“God, Grantaire,” Enjolras mumbles weakly when he can finally see all of Grantaire. He pops the lid on the bottle of lube and pours some over his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it a little. His fingers then trace down from Grantaire’s groin down in between Grantaire’s ass.

Grantaire groans when Enjolras’ finger circles the ring of muscle there. Enjolras grins and Grantaire rolls their eyes at him. “Fuck, just put your finger in me, Enj,” they say, nickname slipping out.

“All right, all right,” Enjolras chides, and then, without warning, pushes inside Grantaire with one finger. He pushes all the way in, past the knuckle, and Grantaire moans wantonly. “How do you feel?” Enjolras asks in a whisper.

“So good,” Grantaire replies. “Hurts a little, but it’s so good.”

“Let me know if-”

“God, I know, Enj. Move your finger, fuck,” Grantaire says, pushing down onto Enjolras’ hand. Enjolras’ other hand runs up and down Grantaire’s thigh and hip. He trails his fingers across Grantaire’s cock, and bends down to plant a tender kiss on Grantaire’s stomach.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he tells Grantaire, just as he starts to move the finger in and out of Grantaire, making Grantaire squirm on the bed. “Ready for another?”

“So ready,” Grantaire says.

When Enjolras pushes another finger deep inside Grantaire, Grantaire’s body protests, squeezing down on the digits, but the satisfied moan that Grantaire lets out gives Enjolras a hint as to their true feelings about it. “That feel good, baby?” Enjolras asks, aiming for sensual. The question makes Grantaire snigger, but then Enjolras starts to move his fingers, quickly adding another, and the laughter drops off into sounds of pleasure.

“Feels so good,” Grantaire reassures him, though the sounds were enough to know.

“One more, or are you ready?” Enjolras asks, as Grantaire wriggles down onto his fingers, trying to fuck himself on them.

“I’m ready,” Grantaire tells him. “I’m so fucking ready.”

“Thank God,” Enjolras says, and he pulls his fingers out, fast, making Grantaire groan at the loss. He tears open the condom and makes quick work of pinching the tip and rolling it onto his cock. He repositions himself between Grantaire’s legs, pulling Grantaire’s thighs up around his waist. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Grantaire confirms, and then Enjolras slowly, so, so slowly, pushes inside them.

Both of them let out a mix of moans and curses as Enjolras sinks into Grantaire’s tight warmth. Enjolras bends down over Grantaire, hands bracing him on either side of Grantaire’s shoulders, Grantaire’s legs still wrapped around his waist. He shifts his hips forwards and is treated to a look of pure pleasure across Grantaire’s face, which is only a few inches away.

He rolls his hips forward again, and again, picking up a rhythm.

“Touch yourself,” Enjolras says, so Grantaire does, reaching down between them to fist their cock, pumping it relentlessly.

“Kiss me,” Enjolras says, and so Grantaire does, pressing them closer together, so Enjolras can feel the movement of Grantaire’s hand against his own stomach.

“Fuck, Enjolras,” Grantaire says, with something of a whimper in their voice. Enjolras continues to fuck Grantaire’s ass, breath coming in gasps already. “Oh,” Grantaire moans. “That’s it, that’s it, right there, right- oh-” they break off, moaning Enjolras’ name senselessly. Enjolras’ echoes them with a cry of Grantaire’s name, followed by a curse as Grantaire’s tight ass squeezes his cock. It feels amazing to have Grantaire around him, like this.

Enjolras shifts his weight onto one hand as he rolls his hips forwards and he reaches for the hand that Grantaire still keeps in his hair, taking it and twisting their fingers together, pushing Grantaire’s hand down onto the bed by their head. Grantaire’s eyes meet Enjolras’ and their breath catches in their throat.

“I’m not going to last,” Enjolras warns them, and Grantaire grins, breathlessly.

“Me either,” Grantaire admits. The hand still wrapped around their cock picks up speed, and Enjolras’ hips snap forwards to keep up with Grantaire. The increase in speed starts to send Enjolras over the edge, heat pooling within him as his orgasm builds, all there is in the world is his cock inside Grantaire, and Grantaire’s breathy moans beneath him. He comes inside Grantaire with a terribly loud moan, and Grantaire follows almost immediately, coming between them, over their hand.

Enjolras pulls out of Grantaire, immediately, panting for breath, peeling off the condom and dragging himself off the bed to throw it into the bin in the corner of Grantaire’s room. His legs feel wobbly, and he thinks it’s a miracle that he actually makes it back to the bed. He collapses onto it, into Grantaire’s arms, and somehow, they manage to find a comfortable position.

“Shit,” Enjolras breathes.

“Yeah,” Grantaire agrees. “That was good. You're definitely not a crap lay.”

Enjolras laughs, breathy and delighted. “It was good, wasn't it?” he agrees. He knows he should go (knows the etiquette of a one night stand) but, God, he’d give anything to stay. He rolls over to look at the beautiful person in bed with him and presses a lingering kiss to Grantaire’s lips, hoping to entice them into begging _him_ to stay. He pulls away, gives Grantaire a lazily heated look, and swings his legs out of bed, getting up and stretching.

“Where are you going?” Grantaire asks from behind him.

Enjolras looks over his shoulder at the sex-wrecked stranger. “Where do you think?” he asks, bending down to grab his boxers, stepping into them.

Grantaire is silent, but Enjolras hears them sit up in the bed. “You-” Grantaire almost says.

Enjolras grabs his jeans and turns to face Grantaire in the bed as he prepares to put them on. “I, what?” he asks.

Grantaire looks him up and down. “You could always stay,” they suggest.

Enjolras smirks. “You want me to _stay_?” he asks, cheekily.

Grantaire turns a pretty red colour. “Well… Round two in the morning would be nice, at the very least?” they say.

Enjolras bites his lip, looking at Grantaire, trying to look like he’s considering going anyway. Then he shrugs and drops his jeans. “All right,” he says. He bites on his lip, trying and failing to stop himself from grinning, and Grantaire can’t help but gaze somewhat adoringly at this overwhelmingly cute man who he _just met_.

Slipping back under the covers, he lets Grantaire wrap an arm around him and pull him in close. Enjolras presses his face into the crook of Grantaire’s neck, smiling happily. “Let’s do this again sometime,” he says.

Grantaire lets out a huff of laughter that shakes Enjolras a little. “Yes,” they say. “Let’s.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!  
> come stalk me on my tumblr nerds-are-cool or talk to me about fics on my writing tumblr theskyis-forever  
> hope you enjoyed this!


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